


move along

by mortydazzler



Series: r&m twitter threads [1]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Dacryphilia, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sort Of, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortydazzler/pseuds/mortydazzler
Summary: Morty doesn't take to dimension hopping well and seeks comfort. Rick takes advantage of that.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Series: r&m twitter threads [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825270
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80





	move along

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a Twitter thread, which is why it's so short. Thought I'd post it here also :)

New universes always come with some growing pains. There are tiny differences to get used to, routines thrown slightly off. Rick is used to it by now, apathetic to it aside from the fact that this Rick's taste in cheap beer was abysmal. He sips at the can of Busch in his hand, winces, and figures the guy had a masochistic streak worse than his. Morty is unnaturally still next to him. Trying to keep an anxiety attack at bay, if Rick had to guess. Not his problem yet. He gets up and goes into the garage, finds the vodka, starts tinkering. And he waits.

Several hours pass before Rick hears the doorknob turn, and he feels a stab of dark excitement. He doesn't look up, stays silent. Forces Morty to get his breathing under control before he can get Rick's name out, tremulous with the threat of tears.

"What is it, Morty," he says.

"I - I couldn't sleep."

"Pass - gimme a wrench, then. Ten millimeter."

Morty complies, and when Rick turns to look at him, he lets his features soften, just enough to catch Morty off guard. Morty's face crumples in shocked anguish. He chokes on his first sob.

"R-Rick, please, I need--"

"I know, baby," Rick says. "I'll take good care of you."

He lifts Morty up into his lap to straddle him, kisses him slow and tender. Rick knows it's not what he wants-- Morty wants the easy way out, fast and rough, but Rick refuses to give that to him tonight. The universe is unfair, it's cruel, and sometimes you have to suffer to get what you want. So Rick slides a hand into the back of Morty's boxers, teases a dry finger at his hole. Morty is crying silently now but for little gasps, and he shakes his head vehemently.

"Not, not dry--"

"I said I'd take care of you, Morty," Rick says, irritated. "Don't fucking doubt me."

He retrieves a bottle of lube from a nearby drawer and gets to work. By the time Rick is done stretching Morty open, his own erection is straining uncomfortably in his pants. He unzips, giving his dick a few strokes with his lubed up hand. Morty looks and sounds so good like this, little moans mixing with his sobs, tears tracking down his face. He sounds even better a moment later, letting out a loud whine when Rick presses into him. He guides Morty's hips down inch by inch, watches his eyelids flutter when he bottoms out.

"F-fuck," Rick grunts as Morty starts to ride him, gripping his shoulders. "You and me, a hundred years--"

Morty nods feverishly, working his hips. Rick wraps his arms around him and begins to thrust up, draws another series of delicious noises out of his grandson. Morty's thighs shake around him.

"You wanna come, sweetheart?" Rick asks.

"Yes, please, Rick, yeah, please let me," Morty says. Rick reaches between them to jerk him off, and on the third stroke Morty spills into his hand, breathing hard.

Rick doesn't stop. He fucks Morty until overstimulation forces a fresh round of tears from his red-rimmed eyes, and the sight undoes him at last. His hips stutter to a stop inside of Morty, filling him up with strings of sticky cum.

A moment passes. Rick leans forward to lick the tears off of Morty's jaw, and relishes the little shiver he gets in response. Morty climbs out of his lap, standing on shaky legs with a hand on the workbench.

Rick wipes his hand on a nearby rag and opens a drawer.

"Look up for me, sweetie," he says.

Morty looks up and confusion flashes across his face.

"Rick," he says, "what are you--"

But the flash of the memory gun cuts him off.

Morty wakes up in his bed the next morning feeling sore with a pounding headache. God, what kind of adventure did they have last night? He's too sleepy to remember. Oh well, at least it's Saturday. He has the whole day to recover.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I guess I really like S1E6, because this is the second time I've written about its aftermath. 
> 
> Kudos/comments are appreciated if you enjoyed! Come visit me on Twitter @mortydazzler if you wanna catch more threads like this as I write them.


End file.
